


The Golden Quartet Book 1: Starts, Tarts, and Stones

by Writing_Like_Ill_Die



Series: The Golden Quartet [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abusive Dursley Family (Harry Potter), Albus Dumbledore Bashing, Book 1: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Canon Rewrite, Gen, Good Draco Malfoy, Good Lucius Malfoy, Good Severus Snape, Harry Potter Rewrite, Lucius Malfoy Being an Asshole, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Morally Complex Purebloods, Put him into the garbage. That’s right. The whole man., They are not mutually exclusive, Wizarding Culture (Harry Potter), Wizarding Politics (Harry Potter), Wizarding World (Harry Potter), but not stupid, competent adults
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:54:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27335275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writing_Like_Ill_Die/pseuds/Writing_Like_Ill_Die
Summary: Once upon a time, there was a world where wizard adults were incompetent, everything was coated in a thin layer of racism, and there was a very strict black and white morality. This isn’t that story.This is the story of four children with the potential to change the world for the better. They each come from different places and perspective, but they each share one thing: Love. And Love is a very powerful thing. It can move mountains, change people for better or worse, and it can even break curses.But these children are only eleven, now. They know not of potential or world-changing love. All they know of is a letter and a school full of wondrous things.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy & Ron Weasley, Harry Potter & Ron Weasley, Harry Potter & Severus Snape, Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter & Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger & Harry Potter, Hermione Granger & Ron Weasley
Series: The Golden Quartet [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1995892
Comments: 6
Kudos: 28





	1. 1. Beginnings (HP)

—STARTS—

—1. Beginnings (HP)—

Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you’d expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn’t hold with such nonsense. Mr. Dursley was the director of a firm called Grunnings, which made drills. He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, although he did have a very large mustache. Mrs. Dursley was thin and blonde and had nearly twice the usual amount of neck, which came in very useful as she spent so much of her time craning over garden fences, spying on the neighbors. The Dursleys had a son called Dudley and in their opinion there was no finer boy anywhere.

Oh. And they also generously kept a ward. Petunia’s niece, you see, from her deceased sister (good riddance.) Little Harry Potter (disgusting, common name) did not look anything like his aunt and uncle. For one thing, instead of being pasty, like white dough that had been locked in a freezer for years, Harry’s skin was a rich brown. Unlike their watery blue eyes, Harry’s were a deep forest green that seemed to stare into your soul. Unlike their unmarred skin that had only ever been injured by sunburns, Harry had a very unsightly scar like lightning, that started on the left side of his forehead and slowly overtook his left eye, nose, and cheek. Unlike their thin, pale hair, Harry’s was wild and curly, overgrown kinks the he constantly had to push out of his face, because Aunt Petunia refused to cut his hair after the Incident.

Yes. Then there the incidents. Acts of horrible not-normal-ness that they just couldn’t beat out of him no matter how they tried. (And oh did they try. Vernon’s poor belt had broken from his efforts.) He shrunk his shirt, regrew his hair overnight, and often disappeared when Dudley was trying to roughhouse with him (what a good lad, teaching his awful cousin character). But even without the weirdness, the secrets he carried in his blood, just his appearance made the Dursleys want nothing to do with him. That scar, that tone of skin... all of was very horribly unusual. They saw no reason to treat him kindly, when they never wanted him. The note left behind simply said that if they didn’t, they would be in danger. So they grudgingly accepted him. But the boy had to earn his keep! If he wanted food, he’d have to make theirs first! And if he wanted clothes, he’d have to clean the whole house first! Besides, freaks like him, they didn’t need much. Important, good people like the Dursleys deserved luxuries. Unwanted freaks like Harry could have the bare minimums. A little cupboard under the stairs, some hand me downs that didn’t fit darling Dudley anymore, and the scraps of food they didn’t want. He should be grateful he got anything at all.

Little Harry Potter himself, didn’t even know that his last name was Potter. The Dursleys never bothered sending to him school. As far as he knew, he was Harry-Boy-Freak. But he knew a lot of other things, that he taught himself, or was taught by his dad. Not the one who was related to him, because he was a dead drunk. But the dad that visited in his dreams and gave him cookies and tea. Ever since he was little the only one who truly took care of him was his dad. Dad was a very handsome man with black wavy hair and olive skin, who had a nice smile, and was very, very tired. Dad taught him all he could, from spelling to basic math, to English and reading and writing. And of course, he told him stories of a wonderful world of magic. One day he would join that world, Dad told him. Count the days until you’re eleven, but don’t tell anyone about me. Those were simple rules, and Harry was good at obeying rules anyway.

It was approaching his eleventh birthday when the first letter arrived. Dudley snatched it out of his hand before he could see what it said, and Uncle Vernon’s face went purple before he lit the thing on fire with his cigar lighter and tossed it in the trash. He whacked Harry around some. Pretty normal. Harry thought that was the end of it.

The next mornings, there were five more. Vernon threw them in the trash, and Harry disappeared before Vernon could bring his wrath on him. The next day, the house was flooded with letters, everywhere, from in the eggs to the toaster to the pudding Harry had painstakingly prepared for Dudley’s birthday (he was sad, only because of all the work he put into it). Harry was thrown into the backyard so the adults could discuss things. But he had a trick up his sleeve. He walked to his secret place, behind the shed, where the Durlseys never went, because esteemed guests would never go there, and would never want to. Hidden by the bushes was a large nest full of writhing snakes, who hissed in happiness at seeing him. Harry cooed to them, sitting down and greeting them all.

Harry had discovered at a young age his freakish ability to talk to snakes. He was four, doing his best to weed the garden, when he heard whispering and found a little garter snake. Her name was Suzy, and she was the first friend he ever made. Of course, Suzy was a gossip, and quickly spread word of a little hatchling to other snakes, who quickly came to see it for themselves, and were delighted with the little boy who gave them pets and let them eat the squirrels and chipmunks that ran around the backyard. Harry had soon built them this nest, out of weeds and unneeded flagstones, even throwing in a heat pack that the sun could warm up for colder days. After all, these snakes were his first and only friends. He loved them dearly, and wanted them to be safe and content. They loved him in turn, comforting him and providing guard when he was outside.

“I need a favor,” He whispered, petting them all as much as he could. “Can one of you sneak inside and grab a letter? Any of the ones with wax seal.”

“I’ve got it, Massster!” Said Suzy, who was little and green. She slithered up his arm to flick her tongue at his nose, like a little kiss. Then, the speedy girl was gone in the grass. Harry laid down on the dirty cushions he had salvaged over the years as a resting place, and relaxed, safe in his hiding place.

His most favorite snake, a reticulated python who insisted she was his Nanny, slithered up into his lap and began to curl tightly around him, not constricting him, but instead attempting to brood him like an egg, her motherly instincts wanting to keep her hatchling safe and warm. Nanny made soft, soothing hisses, helping to rid Harry of the last of his panic.

A minute later, his speedy green friend brought back a letter in her mouth. He read on it:

‘Harry James Potter

The Cabinet Under the Stairs

4 Privet Drive

Little Whinging

Surrey’

The wax seal was strange, unlike anything he’d ever felt. He tried very hard to preserve it as he opened his letter, wanting to keep it as a treasure. As he finally freed the seal from the envelope, he shoved the wax into his pockets and took the letter out of the envelope. His name was Harry, but he wasn’t a Harry _Potter_ , was he? Maybe this letter was mailed incorrectly? And yet, thinking of how determined the sender seemed to be, with the hundreds of letters, Harry had to conclude that yes, he must be the Harry Potter this letter was addressed to.

‘Dear Mr. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress’

Harry let out a little squeal of excitement. In the freedom of his safe spot, he could freely flap his hands in excitement and wiggle about like a little snake. Nanny hissed out laughter, as the rest of his snakes celebrated. Then there was a loud scream that he knew all too well.

**“BOY!”**

Harry swallowed hard. His whole body shook with fear. But he stood, knowing he’d have to face his uncle.


	2. 1. Beginnings (HG)

—1. Beginnings (HG)—

  
Dr. and Dr. Granger, of Eco Farm #8, knew very well that they were not normal. In their scientific opinion, such a thing was impossible to achieve. It was all subjective, and to be a person with all the most common traits would be much stranger than anything else. They held true to science and theory, but never closed their eyes to mystery. After all, there are many strange things in the world. To dismiss or shun any possibility was simply illogical.

Zona and Lark Granger were part of a league of scientists looking to make the world a better place. As such, they volunteered to live and work on an experimental Eco farm to record data on the methods tried and to find methods as well. Zona was a tall woman with her curly hair usually tucked into a messy bun, with very dark skin and sharp brown eyes, which were often softened with fondness. She was thin yet sturdy, this combined with her tallness making her look much like the sunflowers, corn, and other plants she raised so carefully, with such care. She was a geneticist and a mathematician, handling budgeting with ease as she studied the DNA of animal and plants alike.

Lark was much shorter, but he was just as sturdy, and very muscular. He was compact, you might say, a whole lot of power in such a small body. His skin and eyes were dark, but his hair was a white blonde mess of corkscrews, a natural mutation his family carried. He was a zoologist and botanist, though he happily left the plants to his wife and only stepped in if she had no clue what she was doing.

Almost eleven years ago, the couple, who dearly wanted children but found that Zona could not carry them, decided to turn to science, and create a test tube baby, carefully carrying it inside an artificial womb, until little Hermione Granger was born. She was a miracle of science, and her parents loved her more than anything in the known and unknown universe.

As she grew up, she was already far more advanced than they planned. She shot up like a little bean stalk, asking questions near constantly, and often getting the answer ‘do you want to find out?’

Hermione wanted to know how everything about everything worked. And her parents were more than happy to show her. Mum walked her through punnet squares and equations, while her Pops made sure she knew exactly how to take care of every animal on the farm.

Of course, Hermione wasn’t satisfied by just that. For her sixth birthday, they gave her a bike and directions to the nearest library, where she would fill a giant bag full of books and bike back home before dinner.

Hermione coveted the few books she owned like treasures, keeping them in perfect condition. Several textbooks, a few chapter books, and, her favorite, a storybook called ‘The Tales of Beedle the Bard’ which Zona had found at a trading post, while Hermione was still growing inside the artificial womb. The man she got it from hadn’t a clue where it was from, simply having found it while exploring an abandoned house in West Country. Dr. Zona Granger read a few its pages, detailing a magical world with magical things, and decided that it would be the perfect thing to spark imagination in her daughter. And indeed it was, as Hermione continued the habit of reading a tale from it every night to help her sleep.

Magic and myth was a special interest of Hermione’s, which her parents were happy to encourage. After all, magic to them was simply science that did not yet have a tangible explanation. And if their little girl wanted to find those explanations, then by all means they would allow it.

However, whatever they expected from her, they didn’t expect it to begin with a barn owl crashing through the open window one sunny morning, bumping its head on the windowsill in the process, flipping over midair, and landing gracelessly in Hermione’s porridge. Hermione screamed, of course, and Zona’s speed allowed her to grab the girl and pull her away from the danger.

“Songbird, can you—“ She looked over to see her husband already putting on the heavy duty oven mitts. “Thank you, darling. Now remember Hermione, dear, owls are nocturnal predators, so it’s not likely to hurt you unprompted, because you’re just too big for it to eat. Though you shouldn’t put your fingers near it, just in case. After all, their talons are sharp as knives and their legs are very powerful, so you never want to handle one with bare hands. It’s liable to rip your hand up.” Always eager to listen to an impromptu lesson from Mum, Hermione nodded quickly, watching in awe as Pops approached the recovering bird from behind. Quickly, he grabbed it, pinning its wings to the side. The thing screeched in protest and tried to scratch at his hands and arms, but the mits protected him. Grinning victoriously, the mute father held the struggling bird above his head like a prize, before walking it back to the window.

“Wait, there’s a letter on his leg!” Hermione cried. Lark paused, and saw there was indeed. He looked to Zona, who nodded.

The African scientist slowly approached, and snatched the letter off its leg as soon as a safe opportunity presented itself. Lark let the bird go, and Zona adjusted her glasses. “Now... what in the name of anything is this?” She looked over the address listed, and scoffed.

  
‘Hermione Jean Granger   
The First Room to Your Left Coming Up the Stairs   
Eco Farm #8   
Outside City Limits   
Cornwall’

  
“What a silly prank. That poor bird...” Zona sighed. Lark signed to them that maybe next time they could send keep the owl, making mother and daughter giggle uncontrollably. They thought that was the last of it.

Then an owl showed up on Hermione’s windowsill the next day and offered its leg, with another letter attached. Hermione was careful of its talons as she took the letter, which was the same as yesterday’s.

Figuring there was no harm in giving a reply back, the young lady took out an envelope and tore a piece of paper from one of her envelopes. She opened the letter, to examine the contents inside. It was about acceptance to a magical school, and awaiting an owl. She did not _own_ an owl. What sort of person did?

She looked at the owl, who was still perched on her desk. She grabbed a bag of sunflower seeds from her snack drawer and dumped the on the desk, making the owl coo, almost as if it were thanking her. Hopefully that would keep it occupied enough so that she could hammer out this letter.

‘Dear Deputy Headmistress McGonagall,

I have no clue what you are talking about. As far as I am aware, I have no magic and have never heard of this school! In other news, I do not own an owl, as they are wild animals that should be respected, and I do hope you are handling this one responsibly. The talons could tear up your hands, and I don’t think any sort of magic could heal that! I am willing to discuss this magical nonsense, IF you can provide proof that this isn’t some elaborate prank by the kids in the town nearby. I know you think I am crazy for believing in magic, but this is quite too far! Thank you very much for your time, McGonagall, or should I say, KEVIN.

Sincerely,

Hermione Jean Granger’

Satisfied with her comeback, she seals her letter and watches again as the owl offers its leg. It’s very well trained, it seems. She ties the letter, gives the owl a quick pat on the head, because it is a very good owl, even if it’s being used for such silliness, and opens the window fully so it might fly off.

Satisfied, she heads downstairs to eat breakfast and tell her parents of her amazing comeback, then to attend to her chores.

She didn’t get to see the owl take off on a long journey to an overworked woman, who read the letter, and, for the first time in months, laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hermione is black, her parents are interesting, jk Rowling can kiss my ass as usual


End file.
